


The Detective Prince of Hearts

by Geist



Series: Naoto's Awakening [2]
Category: Persona 4, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Ahegao, Altersex Character, Anal Fingering, Anal creampie, Breast Play, Calfjob, Catsuit, Chair Sex, Clothed Paizuri, Clothes Ripping, Creampie, Cum Eating, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Dominance, Dry Orgasm, F/F, First Time, Footjob, Hair Brushing, Intracrural sex, Kissing, Leather, Name Calling, Open Relationship, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Paizuri, Pantyhose, Quiet Sex, Rough Sex, School Uniform, Secret Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Exhaustion, Shower Sex, Sitting Position, Spooning, Storytelling, Tea, Thighjob, Vaginal Sex, anal penetration, buttplug, nerd, nipple sucking, no underwear, sweater, tail plug, virgin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 00:17:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16029032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geist/pseuds/Geist
Summary: Full of confidence from her sexual awakening in Inaba, Naoto got herself a girlfriend in the form of Ann Takamaki, who was eager for Naoto to meet all of her friends. As they share a bed and each other one night, Naoto tells Ann just how each individual visit went.





	The Detective Prince of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> All characters are portrayed as 18+

Naoto drove herself against Ann, over and again, cock grinding in her pussy, twitching, tingling, close to coming but not quite there yet. She'd already blown her load twice that afternoon. This particular round had been a good long one, and she wanted to make it last longer, maybe try and squeeze another orgasm out of Ann before she was forced to concede her own. She had her work cut out. The air was full of Ann's moans, the animal reek of sex and the scent and sound of sweat-soaked leather from the red catsuit Ann 'just happened' to have lying around.

Beneath her, Ann gave a short scream, her pussy rippling around Naoto's cock. Naoto, with her lover's satisfaction assured, was free to grip the twin cheeks of Ann's perfect arse through their encasement of leather, squeeze them hard and make her last few desperate thrusts. Her prick sawed against Ann's walls, accumulating the staticky, tingling premonition of orgasm. A hoarse cry escaped her, her balls clenched: a kind of aching, empty feeling in them. The pulse that shot through her cock as it deposited a dribble of her remaining semen in Ann's pussy more than made up for the discomfort, though.

Sticky and exhausted, Naoto pulled out of Ann, flopping down beside her. Ann rolled onto her side to face her, and they shared a grin, two team-mates who'd just overcome a difficult physical challenge. 

"How many does that make?" Ann asked, stifling a yawn. 

"Four all," said Naoto. "You sucked me off, then we tried out that new dildo on you-" the dildo in question lay at the end of the bed, bright purple and still slick with Ann's juice "-then two each while I was fucking your butt-" 

"And one just now," Ann finished for her. "Fair and square." 

"Pretty good going, huh?"

"Yep."

Naoto reached out and took hold of one of Ann's breasts, gently playing with it. Her tits had long since been freed from her catsuit, the zipper folded aside to avoid terminal scratching. A long V ran from her shoulders to her crotch and beyond, terminating halfway down her back, a swathe of luscious, glowing skin highlighted against the rich red leather. Naoto, as happened quite frequently when she was with Ann, felt a sense of minor awe at her beauty.

"Mmmm," Ann murmured, as Naoto's fingers brushed over her nipple. "That feels nice."

She caressed one of Naoto's boobs, jiggling its weight in her hands. It amused her, as a model, that her girlfriend was bustier than she. 

"Sooooo..." she said, as they fondled one another. "Got another round in you." 

"You're insatiable," Naoto said, affectionately. "I'm really not sure. Can't even feel it twitching down there." 

"Hmmph. That's no good." Ann squirmed a little closer, running the point of her tongue over her lips. She made her voice low, seductive. "Don't I light a fire in you anymore?" 

"Always. But right now the fuel tank's empty."

"Not the most romantic of metaphors. Ah, I know! You met my friends recently, didn't you? Like, one on one."

Ann had introduced Naoto to a few of her friends over lunch one day. Said friends had all been, Naoto suspected, involved in the Phantom Thieves affair, but Ann remained reticent on the subject and Naoto had no way of knowing for sure. Regardless, they all seemed perfectly nice women, if sometimes a little odd. 

And after that lunch, a curious thing had happened. Naoto had received invitations from each of them to visit them at their homes. She'd accepted, not thinking much of it at the time. 

"I did," she said.

"So? What happened?"

Naoto smiled. She had an inkling Ann knew exactly what had happened. But she'd surely love hearing all the sordid details.

"Roll over," she said, and Ann complied.

Naoto snuggled against her, warm leather rubbing against skin, the vinyl tail sprouting from Ann's arse tangling between their legs. She wrapped her in her arms, put her mouth close to her ear and said, a storytelling lilt in her tone:

"Let's start with Makoto..."

\---

The address Makoto had given Naoto turned out to be an apartment in a ritzy downtown highrise, complete with a vast, comfortably appointed lobby. Naoto ignored the amenities and made a beeline for the elevators, where a keycard panel barred her way. Fortunately, there was an intercom. Naoto tapped in Makoto's apartment number. There was a tone, a brief pause, then, quiet but clear, Makoto's voice came through.

"Niijima residence, Makoto speaking."

"Hi Makoto. It's Naoto."

"Oh! Hi! Hold on a second, I'll buzz the lift for you."

Another beep, and the elevator doors trundled open.

"See you soon." The intercom clicked off.

Naoto stepped into the lift and rode it up to Makoto's floor. She stepped out, strode down the hallway and, coming to the appropriate door, knocked.

Makoto was there in a second, inviting Naoto in with a friendly smile.

"Welcome," she said, "come on in."

Naoto smiled back, followed her in, took off her shoes. Makoto ushered her into the living room, sat her down and made sure she was comfortable.

"Tea? Coffee?" she asked. "I'm sorry, I don't often have guests, I'm not really sure what I should be saying."

"Uh, water's fine," said Naoto.

"Water. Right."

Makoto hurried off, and Naoto, ever the detective, took the opportunity to look around. Makoto's apartment was a good size, and tastefully furnished. Lots of the furniture was new. Someone who lived here was bringing in good money. Hadn't Makoto mentioned a sister, when Ann had introduced them? A stack of law textbooks occupied a coffee table, and Naoto scanned the titles.

Makoto returned with the water, and sitting down beside her, handed it to Naoto, who took a grateful sip.

"I think I remember reading that," she said, pointing to the spine of a particularly thick textbook. "Evidentiary standards. That was a couple of editions ago, of course."

"Yeah, we covered that last year. Though I guess I'm looking at it from the other side."

"Casting doubt on whatever we dig up," Naoto said, wryly.

"Well, sometimes doubt needs to be cast." Makoto sounded like she was speaking from personal experience.

"No, I get it. Some evidence isn't worth the bag it's kept in. You're aiming to become an attorney, I take it?"

Makoto nodded. "Yep. Another few weeks of college, then finals, and then-" she shuddered dramatically "-the Bar."

"Well, good luck."

"Yeah, that's kind of why I asked you over. See, I hope I don't sound arrogant when I say I know pretty much everything there is to know about criminal law. I'm a very good student."

"No doubt."

"But I could really use some insight from someone who knows police work. You know, get ready for the real world. Are - are there any cases that you've worked that really stood out prosecution-wise?"

Naoto took another sip of her water, thinking. "I generally only see the forensic side of things," she said. "Oh, but there was this one case..."

So Naoto and Makoto spent a pleasant hour talking about grisly murders and daring robberies, and the legal ramifications thereof. Makoto fetched a pad and scribbled down endless notes, nodding intently as Naoto explained how the blood spatter in one case showed that the defendant was innocent, or how a wad of chewing gum left under a desk proved another guilty. 

"That was fascinating," Makoto said, after Naoto's impromptu lecture. She'd fetched Naoto another water, and Naoto, focussed on re-moistening her dry throat, didn't notice how much closer she was when she sat back down.

"Exactly what I needed," Makoto continued. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," said Naoto, setting her glass down on a coaster.

"There is...something else."

Naoto glanced at her. She had her fingers twisted together, and was looking down at her lap.

"Oh?"

"You and Ann, you've been, umm, friends for a while now?"

"About four months, yes."

"She ah, she mentioned you have an arrangement."

"She did, did she?"

Naoto had to suppress a chuckle. She had an idea she knew what Makoto was getting at, but she was beginning to enjoy her embarrassment. There was a blush creeping into her face, and her fingers worked themselves together all the more tightly.

"A kind of open thing?"

"Kind of."

"And that you were, you were-"

"Promiscuous?"

Makoto frowned. "I wouldn't have put it like that."

"I would. Makoto." Naoto took hold of Makoto's hands, gently prised them apart, twined her fingers with her own. Makoto looked over into her eyes, and Naoto smiled. "Is this the sort of thing you're talking about?"

Makoto smiled back, untensing in an instant. "Kind of, yes."

Naoto leaned in, kissed her cheek. Makoto's breath hitched, then returned to normal, albeit a little faster.

"And that."

"A little closer."

"Mmm. And how's this?"

Her lips met Makoto's, and as she insinuated her tongue into her mouth, she bore her down to the sofa, cradling her as they hit the cushions. After that one burst of passion, their kiss became a slow, cautious thing, curiosity coming to the fore. Naoto explored Makoto's mouth as thoroughly as she'd pursue a line of investigation, Makoto probed Naoto's as voraciously as she read her court case files. 

When tongues could find nothing new, hands came into play. Makoto was the first to escalate, grasping Naoto's waist and moving up, over her ribcage, grazing her breasts through her jacket in a way that might almost have been accidental. That gave Naoto the excuse she needed to stroke her way along Makoto's side, sliding her palm onto her chest and cupping one of her boobs, feeling the structure of her bra under her t-shirt, and the softness beneath that. Makoto murmured into Naoto's mouth, abandoned all pretence and grabbed Naoto's lapels, pulling her jacket wide open. She groped both of Naoto's tits at once, her eyes flickering open in surprise when she discovered just how well endowed her new lover was. Naoto, on the other hand, closed hers, pulling away from their kiss and groaning as those delicate fingers massaged her just the way she liked.

And speaking of well endowed, Naoto felt a tightness in her panties. Her cock was swelling, straining against her shorts, tenting her jeans. She contrived to let Makoto know, and dipped her hips, grinding her nascent stiffy into Makoto's thigh. Makoto smirked, let one of her hands drop from Naoto's chest. Naoto felt it sliding down between them, until it alighted on her crotch, fingers curling around her bulge. Makoto began to rub, and Naoto made a low, involuntary noise in the back of her throat.

"I was wondering," Makoto said, upping her pace a little.

"Mmm?"

"Does the Detective Prince have any fantasies? It'd be fascinating to find out."

"Detective Prince? Someone knows a little more about me than they let on."

"Your name rang a bell, certainly."

Naoto bit her lip, stomach tensing. Makoto had squeezed harder, folding denim and cotton around her prize.

"So, fantasies?" she asked again.

"Well, maybe one."

"Go on, tell me."

Naoto put her mouth to Makoto's ear, and whispered. When she looked again at Makoto's face, there was such a naughty look upon it that Naoto scarcely believed it still belonged to such a strait-laced scholar.

"Really?" Makoto wriggled out from under Naoto, sat up. "Actually, you're in luck. Wait right here."

In a trice, she was up and out of the room, heading through a door into what looked, from the glimpse Naoto caught of it, like her bedroom. There were some bumps, a rattle, then silence for a while. Then:

"Close your eyes."

Naoto dutifully did so. She heard the door click open.

"Aaand, open!"

Naoto looked. And there was Makoto, quite different from before. She now wore a black halter vest over a white blouse. Her trousers were gone, replaced with a pleated skirt in red and black plaid, and she'd dragged on a pair of dark pantyhose.

"That's...wow." 

Naoto couldn't really think of anything more eloquent to say, though she did notice that Makoto's uniform seemed a tad too small for her. Her vest, for example, looked uncomfortably tight around her chest, and her shirt’s sleeves didn’t quite reach her wrists. Her skirt, too, went about a third of the way down her thighs and no further.

"This was my senior year uniform," Makoto said. "I guess it's sentimental, but I kept it. Must have had one last growth spurt between then and now. Do you like it?"

"I do." Naoto stood, embraced Makoto, gave her another kiss, much fiercer this time. Makoto was panting when they parted. "I really do."

"Let's take this to my room," Makoto said, clasping Naoto's hand.

In her room, door closed, blinds pulled to, grey afternoon light filtering through, they clove to one another, pulling at clothes, squeezing breasts and buttocks and whatever came to hand. Their kisses were quick, birdlike, tongues darting together and parting as suddenly. Naoto lost her jacket on the way to the bed, while Makoto's vest hung open, Naoto being unwilling to strip her of it so soon.

The edge of Makoto's bed caught Naoto in the backs of her knees, and she went tumbling down, pulling Makoto with her. They landed on an undignified tangle, and struggled to get themselves back into order and onto the mattress proper. Naoto ended up with Makoto on all fours above her, and she took the opportunity to pop open the top button of Makoto’s shirt.

It was only fair that Makoto should undo something of Naoto's, and so she did the same. Naoto reciprocated, and, fastening by fastening, they bared each others chests. Makoto sported black lace across her breasts, leaving Naoto a little embarrassed over her plain blue cotton. It was an embarrassment that faded, however, when she reached up and slid her hands beneath those cups, thrilling at the way her fingers sank into Makoto's flesh. Her nipples hardened under Naoto's palms, and she groaned as Naoto rolled them, flexing her hands in and out. Tiring of its constraint, she shoved Makoto's bra out of the way, let her tits hang down in soft cones, surmounted by sweet pinky-brown peaks. Naoto reared up, gave one a lick, and returned to massaging.

Makoto, meanwhile, was slightly greedier, and went straight for Naoto's fly. She flicked open the button, yanked down the zipper and, with some difficulty, balancing on one hand, shoved Naoto's jeans off her hips. Her target was obvious; she seized Naoto's cock through her boyshorts, curling her hand entirely around it, wrapping it in their material. Naoto whined as Makoto jacked her, setting up a sound of shuffling fabric that became ever squishier the more precum soaked through.

She moaned aloud, grinding her shoulder blades into the sheets.

"There's something I'd like to do for you," Makoto said.

Makoto climbed off Naoto, and at her urging, Naoto sat up with her back to the pillows. Sliding her hands into Naoto's shorts, Makoto tugged them down, and for a second stared hungrily at Naoto's cock.

"Oh, that is nice," she murmured, and bent down to kiss its tip, to a whimper from Naoto. 

Makoto shook her head, as though reminding herself what she had in mind, and got herself into a sitting position. She leaned back, supporting herself with her arms. She kicked out her legs, and her skirt fell back, giving Naoto a glimpse of panties that matched her bra, shrouded by her pantyhose. Sartorial analysis went out the window, however, when Makoto gripped Naoto's dick with the soles of her feet and, with the utmost care to not kick anything delicate, began to rub.

"I had a boyfriend in sophomore year who loved this," Makoto explained.

"Oh?" Naoto couldn't form anything much more coherent. The gauzy nylon whispering over her cock felt incredible.

"Yeah, a little too much. One of the reasons we split. Besides, he wasn't nearly as sexy as you."

Naoto could only whine as Makoto squeezed her feet together, trapping her dick between her arches. Angling them up, she curled her toes around Naoto's cockhead, letting them bump over it, to at a time, starting with her big toe. By the time she reached the little ones, Naoto thought she might cum right there and then. Her cock throbbed with a dangerous urgency, hot and painfully stiff, and it was only with a lot of willpower that she pulled herself back from the brink.

Her agony was prolonged, though, as Makoto gradually shifted forwards. She rested her feet against Naoto's stomach and began to use her calves, rubbing them together like a grasshopper playing its music. If Naoto listened carefully, and she did, desperate for anything to hold back her swelling bliss, she could hear the zip-zip of nylon fibres sliding past one another.

Her muscles were soft one moment, Naoto's cock squished between them, then hard the next, as she tensed them, rebalancing herself. Spots of Naoto's precum glistened here and there, charting a course up her legs, until her feet were hard up against Naoto's chest and she had no more room to manoeuvre.

Naoto breathed a sigh of relief when Makoto released her cock. Again, she'd been right on the verge of cumming, and she was sure Makoto still had something in store. Saving herself for it was a challenge, but she managed it.

"Lie back a bit," Makoto said, and Naoto arranged herself while she stood, turned around, and sat back down in Naoto's lap. 

Reaching between her legs, she took hold of Naoto's cock, guided it so it protruded between her thighs, and closed them. Naoto groaned helplessly, trapped in silky sleekness, in bodily warmth and the faint dampness of sweat. Not just sweat, either; her prick was stuck right at the crux of Makoto's legs, from where emanated an even more intense heat. When Makoto made her first tentative movements, she gave a whispery gasp, clearly getting something herself out of having Naoto in such an intimate place. Not as much as Naoto, though, who sat up, wrapped her arms around her, squeezed her breasts and kissed the back of her neck. She shivered, moaned out loud, let Makoto know exactly what she was doing to her as those thighs rolled her cock back and forth.

Switching it up, Makoto began to rock in Naoto's lap, practically jacking her off. Her cockhead disappeared between Makoto's legs, popped back out, her foreskin peeling away, revealing bulbous flesh in dark purple that looked about ready to burst. As, in a sense, it was. All Naoto could do was hold on, play with Makoto's tits - as though those would make her less aroused - and, when the moment came, when the tide rose up and engulfed her, croak a feeble warning.

"Gonna cum!"

"That's good, go on, let it out," Makoto murmured, soothing, expectant.

And Naoto, her mind ablaze, felt her orgasm surge through her prick, reflect and reverberate around the rest of her body. She clung to Makoto as a white fountain surged from her, shooting as high as Makoto's chest before it came pattering back down, splashing across her thighs in glutinous strings. Naoto unwrapped her arms and flopped back, thoroughly wrung out by Makoto's performance.

"Amahh-". She coughed, swallowed, ran her tongue around her mouth and tried to get at least a modicum of moisture back in it before she spoke again. "Amazing."

"I knew you'd like it," said Makoto, with something like a purr in her voice.

She sighed and rolled onto her back, legs akimbo. Naoto roused herself, got to all fours and positioned herself over Makoto, looking down at her smiling face. Makoto gripped her shoulders, and pulled her down for a kiss.

In the midst of it, Naoto let her hand slither down Makoto's side, over then under her rucked up skirt. She curled her fingers around Makoto's crotch. It felt soft and featureless at first, until she drew her fingertips inwards, pressing down on nylon and lace, until something yielded beneath. Fabric moulded to skin, hot wetness wicking through even the artificial fibres, slicking Naoto's digits. Makoto 'mmph'ed into her mouth, her tongue falling still for a moment then bursting back into life at Naoto's teasing perambulation around the edges of her cleft.

Just the feel of Makoto's pussy in her hand had Naoto sporting a semi, and as the thought of penetrating it flashed through her head, her cock jumped to attention, heedless of its earlier ordeal. Naoto ended their kiss, a string of saliva connecting their tongues as she pulled away.

"I want to fuck you," she said, quite straightforward. She got the impression Makoto appreciated that.

"God, yes," was Makoto's response, and Naoto ducked down, gripped two folds of her pantyhose, looked up and and asked:

"Are these expensive?"

"Not at all."

Naoto ripped the flimsy nylon wide open, flicked aside Makoto's sopping panties, barely had time to admire the glistening pinks and reds between her dark lips before she was back atop her. She rutted mindlessly, intellect giving way to instinct, her prick slipping fruitlessly past Makoto's quim in her haste to thrust into it, to join with her.

"Hold on, hold on," Makoto muttered. She caught Naoto's dick, guided its tip to her hole. "There, that's-"

She concluded with a wordless scream. Naoto was inside her in an instant, hips flush with hers, balls resting against her butt.

"You okay?" she asked, "Sorry, I was-"

"I'm fine!" Makoto said, and for a moment Naoto fancied her reddish-brown eyes flashed bright crimson. "C'mon, get on with it."

Naoto had absolutely no reason to argue, so she pulled out, savouring Makoto's silken walls clutching her cock, thrust, let her momentum carry her to the next stroke, falling into a routine that had become second nature. Before long the slapping sound of her skin striking Makoto's echoed in her ears, coupled with their gasps, their moans, the creak of the bed beneath them. Naoto's breath grew heavy, her limbs burned with exertion, bedsheet friction scorched her knees. The cum she'd streaked Makoto's thighs with smeared over her own, growing sticky between them. She acknowledged none of it; only pleasure spoke to her. Only the way Makoto's pussy conformed perfectly to her, its inner ridges bumping over all the right places. Only Makoto's hands at her breasts, lifting them and letting them drop, pulling at her nipples. Only their mouths conjoining in hastily snatched kisses, whenever the patterns of their breathing allowed for it.

Makoto took everything Naoto had to give and gave it straight back, rising up to meet her, bracing herself as Naoto hammered against her, urging her on.

"You - feel - so - fucking -good!" Naoto grunted each word between a succession of particularly powerful strokes, sweat flying from her. Each one drove a scream from Makoto's lungs, and at the end she cried:

"Yes! More!"

But Naoto had overreached. She slumped, panting, thrusts slowing, falling into a lull. And it was fortunate that she did, because at that moment she heard the faint click of the apartment door opening, then, louder, a voice call out:

"I'm home."

Naoto and Makoto gaped at one another in horror.

"My sister," Makoto whispered, almost not speaking at all. Very unconvincingly, she replied: "Heyyyyy, Sae. How was work?"

"Oh, not bad. Just a couple of court appearances today, and some paperwork. How're you."

"Fine!"

Naoto heard footsteps, a knock on the door. Her blood froze. The handle turned an inch.

"Don't come in!" Makoto almost yelped. "Studying! In the zone! You'll break my flow!"

"Okay. Shout if you need anything. Oh, who's shoes are those in the hall?"

"Uhh, mine. I got them the other day, only just took them out the box."

"Huh. They're nice."

The handle returned to its original position. The footsteps disappeared towards some other bit of the apartment.

Naoto took a deep, shuddery breath, as did Makoto.

"Shit, that was close," she muttered.

"Very," said Naoto. "Umm, would your sister actually mind me being with you?"

Makoto frowned. "Damn. No, actually. We could've just got dressed...but now I've lied and ugh, it'd just be embarrassing. I panicked."

Silence. Makoto shifted beneath Naoto.

"Can't help but notice you're still in me," she said.

"So I am."

"And that you're still hard."

"Against all odds, yes."

"We should stop. Should we stop?"

"Do you want to?"

"No."

"Me either. Maybe if we were really, really quiet."

Makoto nodded. "Okay. But I'm locking that door."

Door locked, they resumed where they left off, slowly, gently. Finesse replaced force, and both of them worked to extract as much stimulation from each thrust as they possibly could.

Makoto squeezed her inner muscles around Naoto's cock, enveloping every bit of it in her walls, while Naoto tried to angle herself so that she pressed up hard against Makoto's g-spot on each stroke. She made sure to bury her prick as deep as she could, before she began the long, torturous process of dragging it out, readying herself for the next slow wave of bliss that'd come from sticking it back in.

They toyed with each other's tits with something close to fervour, seeking any extra source of pleasure. Naoto ducked her head whenever she could to suck on Makoto's hard little teats, and Makoto kept up a constant circulation with her thumbs around Naoto's areolae, flicking her nipples this way and that, each touch prompting a silent gasp. At one point she squeezed the peaks of Naoto's breasts together and took both of her nipples into her mouth. As they rubbed against one another, corralled by Makoto's stiffened tongue, Naoto almost forgot herself and moaned for more, stifling it at the last moment.

The road to their mutual climax was a slow and often arduous one. Naoto tried as best she could to gauge Makoto's progress, to pace herself and match her, even when every fibre in her body demanded that she abandon herself and heedlessly chase her own finish. At times she lost her rhythm, and Makoto would sigh in frustration, losing a little of her pent up energy, at others Makoto would tire of bearing down, and Naoto's next few thrusts would be far less satisfying as Makoto's walls loosened around her cock. Bit by bit, though, minute by minute, both of them sweaty, shaking and desperate, they approached their orgasms.

Naoto knew when she'd passed the point of no return, and regardless of what happened next, she had no choice but to keep going with the constant pace she'd practically programmed into her muscles. But Makoto was writhing beneath her, drawing up her legs, cunt rippling round Naoto's cock. Naoto closed her eyes, drew in a breath, felt Makoto's hand clamp tight over her mouth.

With so much build up, when she came, it was a strange, attenuated thing: a full-body pulsing, a release that seemed to happen in slow motion. Somewhere, there was the physical ecstasy as she pumped her seed into Makoto, elsewhere, an almost opiate warmth, a glut of endorphins hammering her brain. She whined into Makoto's palm and, reaching a crescendo, fell atop her, clinging to her, both of them riding out their last few dregs in perfect synchronicity.

It was a while before either of them spoke. Naoto, her cock softening in Makoto, cum trickling out around it, kissed her way up Makoto's neck, over her jaws, pressed her lips to her mouth, a quick, chaste smooch.

"We got there," Makoto said, grinning in a slightly dazed way.

"We did."

Naoto stroked Makoto's damp hair, kissed her again: for longer this time, with tongue.

"What now?" she asked, kiss done.

"My sister's still here. We're kind of stuck. Might be a while before you can go."

"Hmm. What shall we do until then?"

"I think I have some ideas."

It was almost evenining before Sae left. Over the next few hours, Naoto and Makoto explored the joys of quiet, slow, clandestine sex, the secrecy merely adding an extra thrill. At times, Makoto would go to her computer and type furiously, clacking the keys in an attempt to assuage Sae's suspicions, if she had any. Once, they fucked while she did so, Naoto sitting on her office chair, Makoto on her lap, gently riding Naoto's cock as she banged out an essay of random vowels and consonants.

At last, they heard Sae announce that she was going grocery shopping. Naoto dressed as quickly as she could, made herself look vaguely presentable and gave Makoto a hasty kiss. She promised to return, and introduce herself to Sae properly next time. Makoto, still in her ripped, cum-streaked pantyhose, her vest and blouse hanging off her, tits on display, escorted Naoto to the entrance and waved her off. Naoto gave her one final, longing look before Makoto heard someone coming down the hallway and quickly shut the door.

\---

"So - hah - you'rrrrre telling me that you talked - god - talked law for an hour before you banged?" Ann said, wriggling as Naoto gently took her from behind. Still spooned together, they were exploring their own sort of slow sex, though out of tiredness rather than necessity.

"It was very...stimulating," Naoto panted, clutching Ann's arse through her catsuit.

"You're such - fuck wait - nerds fuck gonna, gonna-!"

She screamed, and Naoto ramped up her speed, another of those empty orgasms descending upon her. In the aftermath, she wasn't sure whether she'd actually squeezed out any cum at all. It left her as discombobulated as her long climaxes with Makoto had, and it was Ann who roused her.

"Shower," she insisted, sniffing theatrically.

Naoto rose on legs that didn't quite work as they should, and helped peel Ann out of her costume - not an easy task with both of them at the edge of sexual exhaustion. Eventually, they extricated her, leaving the suit on the floor like a shed skin.

Ann kept her tail plug in until they stood beneath the shower, blessedly hot, muscle-relaxing water pouring down on them in pressurised needles. There, Naoto winkled the plug out of Ann's arse, rinsed it under the stream and placed it outside the cubicle to be properly cleaned later. Ann turned away from her, bent over slightly, and spread her buttocks with both hands, allowing Naoto to slip two fingers into her loosened ring and scoop out the mess she'd made in there.

That done, they set to scrubbing each other down at their leisure. Naoto kneeled to wash Ann's legs, and, since she was down there already, pressed her mouth to Ann's quim and slid her tongue in, tasting the thin load she'd left. She lost track of time, and before she knew it, Ann was crying out, running her fingers through Naoto's wet hair, her thighs clamped around her face as she came.

"6-5," said Ann, as they left the shower.

"Who's counting?" Naoto said.

Dried and wrapped in their fluffiest towels, she and Ann went back to the bedroom. Ann sat down on the edge of her bed, and Naoto behind her where, armed with comb and brush, she began the arduous but rewarding task of returning Ann's hair to photoshoot-readiness.

"Mmm," Ann murmured, as Naoto ran the comb down her locks, separating them out into silken strands. "That's nice." She let Naoto make a couple more passes before she said:

"So you've told me about Makoto. How about Haru?"

"Nosy, aren't you?"

"Excuse me, Miss Police. You're nosy for a living."

"True. Alright, here's what happened..."

\---

If you didn't look up and see the panes of glass hanging overhead, you could be forgiven for thinking you were outside when you were in Haru's conservatory. Her garden occupied a signficant patch of astronomically pricy Tokyo real estate, and said conservatory a significant patch of the garden. Plants of every description flourished in all directions, arranged around a winding stone path that, in four seperate places, became an elegant wooden bridge and crossed an artificial stream brimming with bright fish. The stream was rigged with pumps that kept it flowing in an endless loop, filling the air with the sound of running water, a backdrop to the song of the birds that perched here and there on small trees and fluttered from feeder to feeder on flashing wings. There was even a cool breeze to counteract the heat of the sun streaming in from overhead, courtesy of artfully disguised air conditioners.

In the middle of all this splendour sat Naoto and Haru, on white painted, wrought iron chairs at a matching table. The tea tray between them was piled high with all kinds of refined nibbles, surrounding a silver teapot. Green tea, it turned out, and Naoto lifted a china cup she could practically see through, pursed her lips, blew, and took a sip. It was exquisite.

Even Naoto, who prided herself on her ability to see through any kind of glitz or glamour and analyse the substance beneath, felt a little overwhelmed. Across the table from her, there was the nexus around whom all this elegance had coalesced. Haru Okumura. Naoto had known her by reputation even before she'd met her in person. One of the richest women in the country, and then there was the mysterious death of her father, which had attracted Naoto's professional interest, inextricably linked as it was to the Phantom Thieves case. She'd been quiet and demure when Naoto had met her with Ann's other friends, but here, on her home ground, she radiated a confidence as solid as the chairs they sat on.

She looked every inch the lady, too, from her straw sunhat wrapped with a salmon pink ribbon, to her light, loose sweater in matching pink, to her navy tennis skirt, right down to the designer sandals on her feet. Sipping her tea with her little finger outstretched, she held her cup in front of her face and smiled over the rim at Naoto. 

"So you're a detective, Ms. Shirogane?" she asked. "It must be so exciting, the thrill of the chase, the terror of your quarry."

An odd way of putting it, Naoto thought, but she nodded. "Please, call me Naoto. Thank you for inviting me to your home. It's beautiful. And yes, it can be interesting at times. There's a lot of boring, methodical work in between, of course."

Haru's smile widened at Naoto's praise. "Thank you. The garden is my pride and joy, of course, but I've put in a lot of work on the old place since my father passed. But back to you. I bet you've caught dozens of criminals."

"A few," said Naoto, modestly.

"Dastardly thieves, no doubt?"

Naoto got the distinct impression she was being played with, but Haru was doing it so sweetly and playing the wide-eyed ingenue so well that she didn't really mind. Besides, she could play too.

"The most dastardly. Truly dreadful ruffians." She reached for one of the little cake squares Haru had provided, popped it into her mouth, chewed and swallowed. "And how about you? How do you occupy yourself?"

"Well, a great deal of my time is taken up managing my father's - well, my companies. A lot of his more...callous policies still need to be reversed, and the various boards occasionally make that difficult. Then there are galas, charity events, fundraisers - all the tedious high society things I'm supposed to attend." She paused, smirked. "Or at least, that my money is supposed to attend."

Naoto nodded sympathetically, taking a sip of tea to chase down her cake.

"And of course, when I have a moment to myself I always enjoy a good fuck."

Naoto very nearly spluttered into her tea. She recovered quite gracefully, though, and taking her cup away from her lips, said:

"Who doesn't?"

Haru clapped her hands together. "Oh good! Ann said you were fun."

"Just what has Ann told you about me?"

"That you're incredible in bed. That you're like a machine, and how she cums over and over every time you make love. Ooh, it makes me shiver to imagine!"

"I see. Some might say that Ann shouldn't have told you something so personal."

Haru winked. "'Some', wouldn't know you as well as Ann does, now would they?"

"I suppose not. Still, I'm sensing a pattern. First Makoto, now you..."

"Hmm?"

"Never mind. So where do you want to go from here, Ms. Okumura?"

"Did you know," said Haru, as though sharing a new fact she'd learned, "I'm not wearing anything at all under this sweater? Or under my skirt, for that matter."

"In other words, you planned this."

"I most certainly did. Let me show you where I want to go from here."

Before Naoto could react, Haru had neatly hung her hat on the back of her chair and scrambled under the table, crawling around its central stalk. She sat back on her haunches in front of Naoto, gazing up at her. She reached up, her hand hovering over Naoto's crotch.

"If I may?"

Slowly, Naoto nodded, and with unseemly haste Haru undid her trousers and whipped them down, followed quickly by her underwear. She tweezered the base of Naoto's cock between thumb and forefinger and pulled it towards herself so that it flopped against her face. Her cheeks reddening with arousal, she took a deep breath, stuck out her tongue, began to lick her treat from every angle, practically drooling over it. Naoto groaned and tipped her head over her chair's backrest, gripping the cold iron edges of the seat. She was hard within seconds, and Haru cooed over her size, lavishing ever more attention on her prick.

With Naoto's cock covered in a shining coat of her saliva, Haru popped out from beneath the table, levering herself up until her chest was level with Naoto's lap. She made a show of lifting her sweater, crossing over her arms, gripping the hem, and raising it, revealing a slightly chubby stomach, her solar plexus, then the bottoms of her breasts. They went up along with her sweater for a few moments, before first the right one dropped out, followed quickly by its sibling, both of them jiggling against her ribs. 

Haru was gifted, to say the least. At last Naoto had met her match in the bustiness stakes. Haru's were a pretty shape, too, hanging heavily, with wide, pale roses for areolae that darkened and puffed out until they merged with her perky, upturned nipples. Naoto's immediate impulse was to reach out and grope them, but Haru had other ideas.

Leaving her sweater resting atop her rack, Haru leaned in and, holding a breast in either hand, engulfed Naoto's cock within them. Naoto was transported, almost leaping up off her chair. She'd received paizuri before, but Haru's fat, cloudy-soft tits were beyond compare. Haru's cleavage became slick with the spittle she'd lavished on Naoto's cock. Her sweaty warmth seeped into it until Naoto could almost have been convinced that it had disappeared between Haru's boobs entirely, were it not for the pulse of her blood pumping through it. And even that was confused; Haru's own heartbeat was just about tangible through her breastbone.

It was a heartbeat that strengthened as Haru rolled her breasts around Naoto's dick: her lips parted, tongue moistening them, panting murmurs escaping her with each bounce of her boobs. Naoto joined her with a whimper of sheer delight. She grit her teeth, crossed her ankles together and tensed her legs, while she gripped the chair so hard she almost thought she could buckle the metal. That made two new partners in as many days who'd found a technique she was completely unable to resist. Certain she wouldn't last long, she blurted out:

"Careful I don't ruin your sweater. It looks expensive."

Haru glanced up, mischief flashing in her eyes. "Oh, I want you to ruin far more than that."

She turned back to her work with new vigour, heaving her tits over Naoto's length until the mix of spit and precum produced between them made a constant squishing sound. When it seemed like this impromptu lube was running dry, Haru refreshed it, balling up a big gobbet of spit and letting it dribble from her mouth, down into the valley between her twin mountains. She constantly changed up her methods: at one point alternating her breasts, lifting one while she dropped the other, at another, holding them still and jiggling them in place, letting the ripples she set up in them vibrate around Naoto's prick. Ocassionally, Naoto's cockhead would pop out from between them and Haru would crane her head to suck at it, giving it a quick swish with her tongue that sent a whole-body tremble through Naoto. In time, though, she'd always return to that constant lift-and-drop, her nipples flicking up and down with each cycle.

Naoto was paralysed. She could do nothing but sit slumped in her chair, panting, staring down at Haru with glazed eyes while internally, she held off a climax that was already well on its way. A titjob this good was something to prolong as far as possible, and anyway, she had her pride. She wasn't going to let Haru overcome her so easily. So she sat, warning shocks running through her, counting sequences of numbers while pillowy flesh wobbled around her shaft, each clinging touch of Haru's skin driving her closer and closer towards the inevitable.

When she came, Naoto didn't even have time to shout a warning. She'd thought she was doing a good job at holding on but her barricades collapsed, her semen surged within her, she jerked involuntarily off her seat, keening like one of Haru's birds. Her cock emerged from Haru's bust, and Haru caught a streamer of cum across the side of her face before she clamped her breasts back around the offending dick, letting Naoto unload right between them. Naoto shook, uttering disbelieving squeaks, her last few loads piling up in Haru's cleavage before they began to ooze out, drip by drip.

Haru heaved a satisfied sigh, released her boobs and let them flop back into their natural positions, Naoto's cock slipping out from between them. She reach up to her cheek and flicked a blob of cum onto her finger, transported it to her mouth and gobbled it up.

"Delicious," she said.

Blearily, Naoto tracked her as she clambered to her feet, tugging her sweater down around her. Then, she swung her leg over Naoto's, and, straddling her, sat.

"Oof," Naoto said. "Hi."

"Hi!" said Haru, and kissed her.

Naoto, rapidly becoming a willing slave to Haru's whims, reciprocated, countering the aggressive, confident motions of Haru's tongue with her own. Haru pulled in closer, and Naoto felt slick heat slither over her flagging cock, accompanied by the faint tickle of pubic hair. She'd been telling the truth when she said she wasn't wearing a stitch of underwear.

Haru was wiggling her butt quite frantically against Naoto's lap, clearly keen on having a stiff dick to play with again. Naoto was inclined to give her what she wanted, and to that end, she ended their kiss, grabbed Haru's sweater and pulled it up, just enough that she could pop her head beneath.

"What are you doing?" Haru asked, incredulous.

"Cleaning you up," Naoto explained.

"What - ohh - I see." She giggled. "How naughty."

In her cave of pink cashmere, eyes adjusting to the half-light filtering through the knitting, Naoto sniffed, inhaling sweat, the briny stink of her cum, a faint trace of Haru's perfume. Haru's sweater was loose enough that Naoto had plenty of room, even if she was occupying the same space as Haru's breasts. Taking hold of them, she hefted them herself for the first time, marvelling at the way they conformed to have fingers and sagged over the edges of her hands, yet still retained their underlying firmness. Parting them, Naoto watched her cum form weblike strands between them, leaned in and began to lick. 

Naoto had long since gotten over any revulsion she might have had about tasting her own jizz. She'd eaten too many creampied pussies and kissed too many mouths previously occupied by her cock for that to be a concern. In fact, she rather enjoyed the flavour and anticipated the day when she slept with someone else possessed of a cock, eager to see if the same stuff from a different source was any different. For now, her own would suffice, and there was a lot of it to slurp from Haru's chest. 

She worked her tongue down Haru's cleavage, right up against her breastbone, tits practically wrapped around her ears, surrounded by their sweltering warmth. Here she sucked a rich glob of her seed into her mouth, there she lapped at a sticky patch until it yielded to her tongue, dissolving across her taste buds. 

Moving out, she took in whole mouthfuls of boob, polishing patches of them to a perfect sheen, seeking out the increasingly rare traces of her seed. By the time she was sucking Haru's nipples, her breasts were as cum-free as they'd ever been.

Naturally, by that same time, Naoto was hard again, and Haru was grinding on her fresh erection, making moves towards sitting on it. Naoto shook herself out of the sweater, caught Haru's arse, lifted her and dropped her straight onto her cock.

Haru yowled, tapering off into a gasp as she sank onto Naoto's prick, and Naoto moaned along with her. She thrust up to jam the last few millimetres into Haru's cunt, pulling her down at the same time, 'til Haru's puffy lips were squished flat against her pelvis. Keeping one hand on her waist to steady her, Naoto flipped up Haru's sweater, unveiling her chest again, and took one of her tits in a talon-like grasp as she began to bounce her in her lap.

Feet resting on the ground, Haru rose and fell on tiptoe, adding her strength to the mix. A shock ran through Naoto each time she came crashing down: a deep, heavy kind of pleasure. She abandoned Haru's breasts, grabbed her, crushed her to her body, letting those magnificent mammaries jiggle against her own clothed ones, while she pressed a lashing tongue into Haru's mouth, With all the power in her arms she piledrived Haru against her crotch, so hard it almost hurt, so hard that she heard the dull thump of muscle on muscle. She suspected that Haru, who was in control every day of her life, would be slow to relinquish it, but once she did, would relish her surrender. She was right. Haru's own thrusts slowed, her legs dangled helplessly, and she clung to Naoto, whimpering into her mouth.

Naoto briefly broke the kiss, whispered, "Let me take care of it," and, holding her one handed, tangled her free fingers into Haru's fluffy hazel hair and forced her face against her own, aggressively renewing their clinch.

They stayed locked together for so long that their lips went numb and they had to breathe through their noses, torrid nostril-breath huffing over one another's faces. All the while Naoto kept on bounce-fucking Haru, sometimes using her hands, sometimes, while she was busy exploring other parts of Haru's body, nothing more than her legs. At one point she leaned Haru back, her gaze travelling down her curvy, delectable body, down to where they were connected. Haru's pussy was a river, and she'd made a lake of Naoto's lap, soaking her thighs with her juices, matting down her pubes into one dark blue mass. That was all to the good, though, as Naoto's cock slammed back and forth inside Haru, still reverberating with each delicious clash between Haru's body and hers.

Haru started to scream: delighted (and delightful) little yelps, and Naoto felt her fingers tightening on her shoulders. She aimed to add to Haru's obvious bliss and, grabbing one of her breasts, directed it upwards, ducked down, took the nipple between her lips and kept it there. She swirled her tongue until it grew tired and Haru's howls turned hoarse and throaty, filling with need. Ceasing her suckling, she let Haru's tit fall in a spray of saliva and silenced her with a rough kiss, tousling her hair again, staring into her wide and wild eyes.

"Close, aren't you," Naoto growled, and Haru nodded madly. "Then-"

Naoto hugged Haru tight, pulled her in, poured all her energy into her hips, thrusting and thrusting until Haru was shaking atop her, boobs flopping up and down. So vigorous was Naoto that Haru's noises came out of her dopplered, choppy, as though she was screaming through a fan. Naoto wanted to scream along with her but had literally no oxygen to spare, and she was thinking that she'd misjudged her grand sprint for the finish when Haru's face screwed up in what looked like agony but was anything but. She threw herself against Naoto so hard she almost overbalanced their chair, trembling, whining.

While Haru experienced nirvana atop her, Naoto kept on rutting, at only a slightly more sedate pace. With Haru's cunt tight around her cock, Naoto came in seconds, plastering Haru's walls with cum, each clench of her balls throwing phosphorescence over the backs of her tightly closed eyelids.

Her seed was leaking from Haru's quim by the time she opened them. Everything looked bright and weird, the trees a vibrant green, the flowers shocking neon shades. Haru's weight against her, though, her arse cupped in her hands, that felt natural. Naoto squinted until things turned back to normal, letting Haru nuzzle at her neck. When she drew back, it was with a broad smile on her face, so infectious that Naoto couldn't help but grin in turn.

"That was just what I needed," Haru whispered, and leaned in, kissed Naoto's cheek. "Thank you."

Naoto, legs numb from mid-thigh down and a bodily ache settling in, thought Haru unlatched herself from her with unreasonable limberness. Before Naoto even had a chance to pull her panties up, Haru had replaced her sweater, smoothed down her skirt and reseated herself on her own chair. She plucked her hat off the backrest and replaced it on her head.

"Now," she said, "would you care for some more tea? The pot does a very good job of keeping it warm, it should still be nice. Or one of these little sandwiches? Go on, you've barely touched them."

Once again, she was every inch the perfect lady. Save for the streak of Naoto's cum drying on her cheek, and the sloppy mixture of it and her juices slowly leaking out and dripping down through the latticework of her seat.

\---

"And that was how I fucked a millionaire," Naoto concluded, brushing Ann's hair to a final golden sheen.

"I always knew Haru was freaky," Ann said. She stretched, shook out her locks. "And you, you own-cum tit-licker."

"Yes, because perfectly vanilla people all have leather bodysuits and cat-tail buttplugs to hand."

"Touché."

Ann swung her legs up onto the bed, fell back and unwrapped her towel, exposing her glorious self to Naoto's gaze. Naoto's cock twitched, but after all the work it had done earlier it'd take more than a naked idol to get it going again. So Naoto crawled up the length of Ann's body until she came to her breasts, dipping down, suck at her nipples one after the other. Ann sighed in a way that was both exasperated and pleased.

"I can guess what's gotten you so interested in those," she said, stroking Naoto's head.

"Mmph." Naoto abandoned Ann's boobs, and climbed until she was face to face with her, and, incidentally, crotch to crotch.

"If we fuck again," said Ann, in between little kisses, "we'll have to take another shower."

"It might not happen," Naoto said. Her prick had achieved chub-hood and seemed reluctant to go any further.

"Yeah right." Ann rolled her eyes. "Any chance you get you take."

"Okay, well, how about I distract myself and tell you what happened when I visited Futaba."

"And that'll make you less horny?" Ann sniped, but she settled down to listen all the same.

\---

Naoto, at Futaba's request, visited in the evening, just as the sky darkened and the few stars that could shine their way through the Tokyo light pollution began to twinkle. Futaba had a nice house just off Yongen-Jaya, close enough to the district itself that, Naoto supposed, she was within shouting distance of the café she'd mentioned she had a share in. The place wasn't huge: the yard out front just big enough to hold a couple of rubbish bins, but it looked cozy, and solidly built. She stepped into the porch, finding a panel mounted to one wall, inset with a screen, a button, and a pinhole camera. Naoto pushed the button.

A moment later Futaba's pale, bespectacled face appeared.

"Hi!" she said. "C'mon in. Follow the lights." Her image vanished.

Follow the lights? Even Naoto found that cryptic. There was an electromagnetic buzz, a clunk, and the front door popped open a couple of inches. Naoto pushed it open, went inside, and a light turned on overhead. As she stooped to remove her shoes, the door swung back on its hinges and silently clicked shut.

She stood, and saw the lights to which Futaba referred. Green LEDs flashed down two strips attached either side of the hallway, a new pulse appearing at the end every few seconds. When Naoto took a step forward, the ceiling light in the lobby went dark, and a new one lit up ahead of her. She grinned, impressed despite herself. Lights flicking on and off, she traipsed after the green flashes, turned a corner and came to a door, where the LEDs piled up in a continuous glow at the strips' ends. They were accompanied by the ghostly flare of (similarly green) electroluminescent wire, outlining the door frame. When Naoto reached for the handle, the door opened itself. Now that, she thought, was just a little too smug. Nevertheless, she headed on in.

Here, the lights were dim, and didn't brighten at her approach. Shelves and workbenches lined the walls, covered with mysterious devices, and off to her left as she entered stood what looked like a full-size, enterprise grade server rack, festooned with cables and blinkenlights. Despite this, the air was cool and sterile, and a faint whirr overhead belied what Naoto guessed was a pretty serious HVAC system. And down the other end of the room, there was a gargantuan desk that spanned the entire wall, occupied by eight PC towers wired together, a bank of six huge monitors displaying graphs and code and who knew what else, teetering towers of heavy books and a whole army of action figures, statuettes and bobbleheads. And before it all, the back of an office chair.

Naoto approached, and the chair span round, to reveal the wizard herself, doll-like within it. But only for a second, as Futaba disappeared in the opposite direction.

"Mwaha - oh damn, wait, overcooked it." She planted her feet on the floor, applied the brakes, and pedalled her way back to face Naoto. "Ahem. Mwahaha! Welcome to my lair."

"Not bad," said Naoto. "It's an interesting way you have of inviting people in."

Futaba smiled, hopped down from her seat and crossed over to Naoto. "Thanks! I was bored one weekend, so I slapped it together."

"You said you were a programmer, I just didn't realise how much of one."

"Programmer, roboticist, amateur cognitive psientist, hacker...though I guess I shouldn't admit that last one to the great Detective Prince."

"White hat, I'm sure," said Naoto. "And you've researched me?"

"Yup yup. You're pretty famous in some circles."

Futaba put her hands behind her back, peered up at Naoto - a necessity, since the top of her head only came up to Naoto's shoulders - and blinked, her eyes magnified behind her glasses.

"And," she said, "Ann says you're the perfect person to pop my cherry."

"Wait, what?"

Instantly, Futaba lost her confident demeanour. Her hands flew to her mouth and she went bright red. "Oh jeez," she said, mumbling through her fingertips, "did Ann not tell you that was what - I'm so, so sorry, I should let you go, I'm-"

"Woah, hey, hold on," Naoto said. She stepped forward, gripped Futaba's shoulders. "Calm down. I'm fine with...that, if it's what you want."

Futaba lowered her hands from her face. "You are?"

"Yes. Though I am beginning to wonder if Ann's my girlfriend or my pimp."

Futaba chuckled. "Talked you up to a couple of the others, has she?"

"You could say that. They weren't quite as open about what they wanted as you. Though Haru was closer than Makoto."

"So, more small talk next time, orrrrr...?"

"I'm fine with direct," said Naoto. She took Futaba's hand, squeezed it affectionately. "Case in point: where's your bedroom?"

Futaba led her right to it, and the lights inside activated themselves just like the hall lamps had. Inside, Naoto's singularity of purpose was somewhat compromised.

"Hey!" she said, heading over to a shelf of figurines. "Phoenix Ranger. These are the original series, aren't they? They're really expensive, I've got the second edition myself, but-"

"You're a fan?" said Futaba, coming up beside her. "Have you been watching the current series? The new episode was just out yesterday, Hyper Feather! Battle-"

"At Antares, for Ultimate Cosmic Justice!"

They laughed, and Futaba enthused: "Okay, okay, but the bit where Pink Feather flipped over that Glazzweggian mutant and grabbed his laser?"

"And threw it to Green Feather so he could defend himself against Lord Shank? Amazing."

"Oh, oh, and the part - wait, getting sidetracked here."

"Right, we're here for a reason, aren't we?"

"Yup. Deflowering me."

Futaba stepped away from her shelves and walked towards her bed. She spoke to the room. "Lighting: Mood." The illumination dropped a few notches, and she frowned. 

"Nah. Big Mood."

The lights redshifted, bathing the place in crimson. While she was involved with her theatrics, Naoto came up behind her and grasped her around the stomach, pulling her in. Futaba put her hands over Naoto's, slotting their fingers together.

"I - I don't want you to be gentle with me," she said. "I've used like, a lot of toys, I'm used to having things in me. It's just I'd like it to be an actual cock instead of plastic for once."

"Okay," said Naoto. "But I'd like to start with a kiss first. If that's okay with you."

"I think I could agree to that."

They kissed, and Naoto, just as promised, was as rough as she thought Futaba could handle. While she jammed her tongue into Futaba's mouth, forcing hers back, she seized a hank of Futaba's long ginger hair and pulled, making Futaba tip her head back and stand on tiptoe to continue the kiss. Dominance established, Naoto ran her hands down Futaba's back, giving her hair the odd yank just to remind her who was boss. She grabbed Futaba's arse and squeezed hard, all but separating her cheeks through her clothes.

Dressed in a t-shirt printed with some mathematical joke Naoto didn't have a hope of understanding, tight black shorts and kneesocks in monochrome stripes, Futaba would be easy to strip, and Naoto wasted no time in getting started. She sent a hand round to Futaba's front, unzipped her shorts and teased them down until they dropped around her ankles. Shoving her hand down the front of Futaba's panties, she curled a finger up into her slit and found, just as expected, the first hints of moisture. Futaba whined, stiffening against her.

"Wet already," Naoto said, breaking their kiss and holding her slick finger up to Futaba's mouth.

"What can I say? I'm gonna get dicked down by someone who likes Featherman. That does things to a girl."

"So I see. Lick."

Futaba stuck out her tongue and lapped at Naoto's fingertip, shivering as she tasted herself.

"Lift your arms," said Naoto. She was beginning to enjoy ordering this nerd around.

Futaba complied, letting Naoto lift her t-shirt up and off, over her head, leaving her nervously standing in her bra and panties.

"Sorry it’s so plain" she said, gesturing at her underwear. "I guess I should've worn something sexier, but I didn't have anything better."

"It's fine. I'm more concerned with what's underneath. Take off your bra."

"Yeah, well, don't get your hopes up there, either." Despite her snark, Futaba reached behind herself, unhooked her bra and pulled it away, covering her chest with her arm at the last second.

"Let me see," Naoto insisted.

Slowly, Futaba revealed herself, and Naoto smiled at the sight of her petite bust, both breasts a perfect handful each.

"I guess when my brain said 'hormone time', my body said 'fuck you', huh?"

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You're lovely."

Futaba blushed, cleared her throat. "So umm, socks, or panties?"

"Leave your socks on," said Naoto. "They're cute."

Which left the other option. Futaba turned away and rolled her panties down her thighs, bending over to take them the rest of the way. Her hair draped across her curvy little butt, taking its shape, until she straightened up and span back around, hands clenched in fists at her side.

Her rusty red pubes were trimmed into a rather haphazard patch above her pussy, but the rest of her was smooth. Her inner lips peeked cheekily from her outer ones, a faint hint of the wetness Naoto had stirred up earlier glimmering on them.

"I don't usually shave, uh, there," Futaba explained. "But when I knew you were coming I tried."

"You look perfect."

More than perfect. Naoto wanted to pick her up, toss her into bed, devour her from head to toe. Her cock hardened as she took in Futaba's skinny charms, cramming itself up against the confines of her underwear, demanding to be let out. Quickly, Naoto began to strip for Futaba, swaying her hips, adjusting her trousers so she could get an idea of what she had in store. She slipped off her jacket, began to unbutton her shirt.

"I've been practicing my ahegao face," Futaba said, breathlessly, her eyes fixed on the triangle of skin Naoto had revealed below below her neck.

"Hmm?" Naoto paused.

"You know, ahegao." Futaba tipped her head to one side, rolled her eyes up in her head, let her tongue loll crazily and flashed twin peace signs. "Whaya shink - sorry - what do you think?"

Naoto put her hand to her mouth. "I think you might have learned a little too much from hentai," she said. "Other than that..."

"Okay, but I want you to make me cum so hard I make that face. And I want, umm, I want that. You know." She nodded at Naoto's crotch and continued, breathlessly. "I want that big fat fucking cock in me, and I want you to break me and I want you to fill me with your hot cum until I can't take any more!"

"Anything else?" said Naoto, dryly. She resumed unbuttoning her shirt.

"Heh, no, that's it."

"Then it's all yours."

A look of envy flashed across Futaba's face when Naoto finally threw off her shirt, then, as she dropped her bra, faint wonderment. Naoto made sure to let her tits jiggle and sway as she bent to undo her trousers, noting with amusement the widening of Futaba's eyes and the quickening of her breath. She was almost hyperventilating by the time Naoto dropped her trousers and stood there in her stretched out shorts, and, as she lowered them, bending her prick down beneath the hem, Naoto feared Futaba might faint. She remained conscious, though, as Naoto's underwear cleared her dick. It sprang up, thwacked against her stomach, and dropped back down again, pointing up and out, straight at Futaba.

Striding from the detritus of her discarded clothes, Naoto stepped on the toes of her socks, pulled her feet from them, kicked them away. She advanced on Futaba, who stood there transfixed, curled her hand around her pussy and took hold of her breasts, rubbing one, squeezing the other. Futaba squeaked and fell into her, desperately trying to take in every bit of Naoto's body at once. She mouthed at her tits, grabbed her arse and placed a tremulous finger to the head of her cock, moaning as it discharged a thick glob of precum. Naoto shuddered. She was becoming as keen as Futaba was to get her rocks off, so she began to push her towards the bed, step by step. Futaba, completely engrossed in the pleasure Naoto was lavishing on her and her own explorations, barely noticed until Naoto caught her behind the legs, swept her into her arms and laid her gently on the sheets.

"What are you doing?" she asked, as Naoto fetched a pillow, put a hand behind her and lifted her, slipping the pillow in under the small of her back.

"I want you nice and wet before I fuck you," Naoto said.

"I am - mmm - I am wet." Futaba put a hand between her legs, held up sticky fingers as evidence.

"You can always be wetter."

Naoto took hold of Futaba's long, slender legs, lifted them and pushed them back, until Futaba could clasp her knee-pits and keep herself folded like that, thighs wide apart.

"Hold that pose," Naoto told her, then dropped to all fours, crawling in until her face was inches away from Futaba's pussy. She smelled her arousal, felt the heat rising from her.

Futaba's arsehole was a little wrinkled circle below her quim, and Naoto took a moment to trace her fingertip around it, smiling as Futaba murmured and squirmed.

"Ever have anything up there before?"

"Yes," Futaba said, embarrassment in her tone. "I uh, kind of like it, actually."

"Maybe another time we could try some things. But for now..."

Naoto pressed her mouth to Futaba's twat, launching into a flurry of licking and sucking. She devoured Futaba's labia, slurping her way round them: going down one, dipping her tongue into her hole, up the other, coming dangerously close to Futaba's clit. Back down, up again, over the centre. She flicked her stiff, pointed tonguetip over Futaba's urethra, tasting the faint saltiness there, revelling in Futaba's squeal, and took the lightest of licks at her jewel, gently prising back her hood, to a full-on scream this time.

"God!" Futaba cried. "I - what - how are you doing..."

The rest of her question was drowned out in a shrill whine, as Naoto nibbled at her inner folds, plucking at them so gently with her teeth. She embedded two fingers in Futaba's cunt and pumped them hard, keeping them hooked upwards to grind into her walls. Her tongue curled in great, sloppy waves across Futaba's mound, gobbling up stray flecks of her juices, while with the thumb and forefinger of her other hand she carefully pinched the hooded part of Futaba's clitoris, tweaking it up and down.

Futaba howled in bliss. Naoto aimed to give her a quick and messy finish. Her own need was boiling within her; very soon she had to be on Futaba, in her, pounding her into the mattress the way they both wanted. A sore tongue and an aching wrist were a small price to pay. And as her fingers became a blur, as her tongue almost seized up in its vigour, Futaba's near-constant screams reached a glass-shattering pitch, dopplered out, became a long 'ahhhhhhh!' and then heavy breathing. Her body jerked, bucked, and her legs came thumping down either side of Naoto's head.

Naoto wiped her chin with the back of her hand and pulled herself up Futaba's limp, panting form. Her cheeks were tomato red. Her mouth was open, white teeth glinting behind pink lips. And her eyes stared up unseeing from behind glasses knocked askew. Naoto tenderly plucked them from her face, setting them on the bedside table.

"How was that?" she asked.

"Incre'ble," Futaba said, slurring. "Bleh. I think you broke my speaky brain parts."

"I'm going to fuck you now," Naoto said, lowering herself so that her cock caressed Futaba's pussy. "Would you like that?"

"Yessss! C'mon, quick, put it in me!"

So Naot reared back, grabbed her dick, dragged it down between Futaba's folds until the tip lodged in her hole, and, with a grunt of effort, thrust.

They both groaned, Futaba louder than Naoto. With her back still resting on the pillow, Futaba was at the perfect angle, and Naoto's cock went as deep as it could go.

"Yesyesyes!" Futaba cried. "That feels so good. Guess I'm not a virgin anymore, huh?"

"Better make sure it sticks," said Naoto, and pulled back to begin her work.

Futaba's toys must have been good, and well used. She took every one of Naoto's strokes with ease and enthusiasm, begging for more, and she'd obviously practiced for the big day. Her pussy was muscular and responsive, walls pulsing around Naoto's prick as effectively as any of her more experienced partners. She wasn't afraid to goad Naoto on, either, using her teeth and nails, or by flinging her legs around Naoto's waist and pulling her in. Her timidity vanished, chased out by the knowledge of how good sex felt. Naoto was happy to act as her teacher.

She returned Futaba's lovebites with ones of her own, leaving fresh red hickeys across her neck, and showed her how pain fuelled pleasure, seizing Futaba's breast and crushing her nipple between her knuckles until she yelled for mercy. At the same time, though, instead of trying to escape she arched up with ever greater passion, bucking against Naoto's hips. The instant Naoto stopped tormenting her, she felt pain stab through her own nips, and looked down to see Futaba twisting them like the dials on a radio, grinning like a demon. She'd learnt her lesson well, and Naoto rewarded her by rutting her as hard as her muscles would allow, pounding her until she was forced to let go by the sheer intensity of it all.

"Nerd slut," Naoto panted. "That's what you are, isn't it? A geeky whore who's been so sex-starved she'll do anything for it."

"Yes, yes!"

"Tell me what you are!"

"I'm a slut! I'm your slut!"

"Good girl."

Naoto fell atop Futaba, humping away while she crushed her into the mattress. She smothered her mouth with her own, trapping Futaba's tongue beneath hers, dominating her in every way possible. When they parted, a line of their mixed drool fell across Futaba's chin.

"I'm going to make you cum," Naoto said, rearing up, kneading Futaba's tits again. "You want that, slut?"

"Please! Give it to me!"

"Show me your ahegao face."

Just as before, Futaba put on that ridiculous expression, her hands up by the side of her head flashing her peace signs. Naoto laughed out loud.

"You look ridiculous, you know that right?"

"Yessssh."

"Alright, here we go."

Naoto's thrusts became perfect, each one a masterpiece, designed to drive Futaba to her climax as swiftly as possible. She was screaming after the first one, wailing like a banshee after a few more. Naoto was so intent on pleasing her that she didn't even have to restrain her own need. It sat there, present but controlled, and she knew it'd stay that way for as long as it had to. Until Futaba came. Naoto did everything in her power to make that happen, teasing her nipples, kissing her neck, nibbling her collarbone. Finally, Futaba's quim convulsing around her cock, her voice a hoarse mewl, Naoto reached down, brushed her clit and rolled it beneath her fingers.

Futaba's eyes clamped shut. She made strangled, gasping sounds, apparently forgetting how to breathe, and her chest heaved against Naoto's. Her hands scrabbled for purchase on the sheets, fingers curling and uncurling. She managed to take in a gulp of air, but when she went to expel it her voice seemed to have deserted her, and all she uttered was a long, drawn out 'haahhhhhhhh!' And if Naoto had thought her cunt was tight before, it turned doubly so, a great swash of wetness sluicing along her passage as the space between her walls and Naoto's cock vanished. She collapsed, completely fucked out.

Only then did Naoto's accumulated tension return, and it did so in force. Her groan was close to a roar, and she hammered into Futaba's twat, splashing juices everywhere, letting the bliss she was drawing from her overtake her body.

"Yessss," Futaba mumbled, dazedly, "cum in me. Fill me up."

With a scream, Naoto let go, flooding Futaba's tunnel with cum as thick and copious as it had been for a long time, each gout accompanied by an endorphin surge that made her head spin. She imagined her balls must have been working overtime to produce jizz of such potent quality, in order to not disappoint Futaba.

Cream of the crop, or crop of the cream, it had to run out eventually. Naoto laid herself atop the shivering Futaba while her cock grew flaccid and drooped from her. When it did, she rested on her side and held Futaba tight, stroking her hair, bringing her down from her experience.

"You were so good," she murmured.

"I - wow," Futaba said, and sniffed, wiping a tear from her eye.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I just - that was awesome. I've been imagining it for so long, and it was - it felt so great. And it was fun! I didn't know it could be, y'know, fun fun. Whenever I used my toys it was just because I was horny. With you it was like playing a game."

"I'd love to play some more."

"Mmm. I think I'm done for tonight. But, soon. Maybe you can show me some tricks."

Naoto brushed her hair to the side, kissed her cheek. "I'd like that."

They showered, separately, and reconvened in Futaba's room, dressed in their underwear again.

"Do you want me to stay the night?" Naoto asked. "I don't want you to think I'm the type to just fool around and leave."

"And I don't want you to think that I just got you over here for a booty call." She paused. "Even though that's totally what I did. Err, I think actually sleeping with you would be a bit too much for me, though."

"Right. Casual."

Futaba nodded and smiled. "Casual."

So they dressed, and Futaba showed Naoto to the door.

"Come back soon, okay? And I mean soon. My toys and my fingers just aren't going to cut it anymore."

\---

"Any time," Naoto said. She stepped out into the yard, waved, turned and headed into the night.

Naoto slowly rolled her hips, grinding her cock into Ann's pussy as she finished her tale. Just as Ann predicted, they hadn't been able to resist one more round, exhausted though they were.

"Think you can make me ahegao?" Ann said, her hands on Naoto's back, gently circling her shoulders.

"I can barely move, darling," said Naoto. "I don't even know if I can cum."

"Mmm, well, keep at it."

It was nice just being close to Ann, both of them in a kind of somnambulistic fuzz, fucking on autopilot while they kissed and cuddled and yawned at each other. In truth, Naoto kind of feared her orgasm, knowing that the ache in her loins would only increase the closer she got. She'd overdone it, for sure, but still there was that impulse to finish.

"Might fall asleep before we're done," Ann murmured, pushing her head back into the pillows.

"Same. One last try?"

"Go for it."

Naoto, her body heavy, her head thick, her muscles complaining, made a final heroic effort, driving her prick deep. Ann whimpered, drawing up her legs, her face pinched as if she was actively concentrating on her climax. With a shivery sigh, she let it out, her eyes slipping shut. It took Naoto a good few more thrusts before the shock of a dry orgasm took her, her balls completely wrung out. It was genuinely uncomfortable, but there was some pleasure in there, and the bone-deep satisfaction of finalising a marathon session of lovemaking.

Naoto rolled off Ann, and had to keep herself from falling asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

"You should tell me stories more often," Ann mumbled. Naoto had to listen very carefully to understand her.

"They're better if they're true."

"Mmhmm. Well then you have my permission to make as many as you need. Love you, Nao-" She finished with a snore.

Naoto turned and kissed her. "Love you too," she whispered.

She folded the duvet over, wrapping herself and Ann in it, found Ann's hand and held it. The lights were still on, but she didn't care. In seconds she was asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to kinkynokyoukai.tumblr.com for this one! Follow me at geistygeist.tumblr.com for more.


End file.
